Unwound
by Miss-LoveManic
Summary: John Egbert is quite smitten with the new girl in town, and Dave Strider couldn't care less. But what happens when he does care? Who will "win" her affections? [Rated T for language and sexual references/themes. John x OC x Dave, with implied and onesided Dave x John later on.][Please visit my profile for an important message.]
1. Her Name Is Bridgette

"Careful, Egbert, you might bust a hole in those jeans with that hard-on," Dave Strider said casually.

John Egbert felt the heat rise to his cheeks, but he ignored his companion. He did, however, shift his body to better "disguise" what was going on below his waist. John wanted to tell Dave that it wasn't his fault. It was that new girl's fault. He just wanted to take a tour of her body and he didn't even know her name. It was terrific perverted thinking, but he couldn't really help it.

This new girl had breast length, dark brown hair that had an interesting red tint to it. Her eyes were a sweet green-brown, and her full lips a delicious pink. Her skin was fair like porcelain. This description was so poetic that it nearly sickened John, but he pushed those thoughts aside as his eyes traveled up and down her form. She had a bosom caught between damn and wow. She had absolutely wonderful curves, and a small hint of a belly, but John didn't care. She was physically perfect to him. Suddenly, his thoughts drifted into intense sexual situations between this girl and himself, and the heat on his cheeks intensified.

Dave merely rolled his eyes. This girl was average to him. Sure, he could see why John was having some hot thoughts about her; after all, her rack was pretty awesome. But Dave just wasn't interested in that shit. Well, he _was_. Just not right now with _this_ particular girl. Part of him was pretty proud of John, as he never thought that John would have the balls to think that way. However, it was pretty sad that he didn't even know her name. If one was to eventually going to have wet dreams about someone, one should know their name.

"So are you even going to talk to her?" Dave questioned in a heavy tone of annoyance.

"Eventually," John mumbled. "I don't know if I will see her around."

"She goes to this school dumbass," Dave said while pushing up his shades. He leaned back against the rail behind him. Although he wouldn't show it, much less admit it, this was rather entertaining. "And quit staring like that. You're creeping me out and I'm not even the one you're fantasizing about."

John sent a glare in Dave's direction only to receive a smirk in reply. He did stop staring, however. This was only because she had risen from her spot several tables away from them and left the courtyard of the school. John let a heavy sigh leave his lips as he pondered whether or not he would see her again. The school was fairly large after all. So the chances were somewhat slim. Still, he could already feel that ache in both his head and crotch to see her again.

Dave finished off his now warm soda, and tossed it in the garbage can near him. "Let's get this shit show on the road," he sighed.

John stood up and shivered. His jeans were really rubbing his (now smaller) erection the wrong way. He shook his head, and gathered his things and hastily followed after Dave. Despite the intense fantasies he was having not too long ago, somehow that girl was starting to disappear from his mind. Ironic, as Dave would say.

They walked along in silence to John's class, which was on the route to Dave's class. Nothing compelled them to speak. It felt like one of those days where nothing needed to be said. Dave didn't even feel the need to comment on John's usual "derpy" demeanor. Even with all the comments he had built up in his head over John's hot and bothered episode during lunch, he still didn't feel the need to say anything. John had better savor that shit, Dave thought to himself.

John ran his hand through his hair as he entered his classroom, but immediately stopped in his tracks. In the far left corner of the room in the very last row was that wonderful representation of the female race. Past steamy thoughts began to flood his mind, and the heat returned to his cheeks.

Dave looked into the room, and a smirk graced his lips. "Well how do you like that, fucker?" he questioned while slapping John on the back. "Go get 'em, tiger."

John looked over his shoulder, opening his mouth to beg Dave not to leave. However, his companion had already disappeared. John closed his mouth, a small squeak of despair leaving his throat. He looked back over at the girl, the heat on his face gradually getting hotter. Surely this wasn't good for his health. But he commanded his feet to move, and he made his way over to a desk far enough away from her where she couldn't hear the nervous thumping of his heart. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and rubbed his brow. This was going to be a long class period.

Slowly, other students began to fill the room. Some pointed out the girl in not-so-secret ways, questioning if she was new or not. John tried to quiet his own thoughts, paranoid to the fact that maybe someone could hear them in some magical way. He fidgeted with his fingers, looking around discreetly. There was no need to be feeling so nervous, as she was paying no attention to him in the first place. Part of him took comfort in this, and he took a deep breath just as the teacher walked into the room.

"Alright class. Sit down and be quiet. We have a new student," the gruff instructor said despite this already being obvious. "Ms. Waters, would you please introduce yourself."

All eyes turned to the girl in the far corner. She stood up bashfully, smoothing out the invisible wrinkle on her clothes. She cleared her throat, and made brief eye contact with the students. John's heart rate increased as she made that sweet eye contact with him. "My name is Bridgette," was all he registered from her. He felt his thoughts begin to settle, and the room around him disappear.

Bridgette. At least now he knew her name.


	2. An Opportunity

Bridgette Waters ended up taking the long way home (which was her way of saying she got lost without actually saying it.) She sighed as she entered her family's new apartment, feeling overwhelmed at the sight of all the taped up moving boxes resting tauntingly. She tried to maneuver around them, cursing promptly as she tripped over some and bumped into others.

Once she made it to her room she heaved another sigh. For her first day in this town and at her new school it went pretty well. No one really spoke to her, aside from teachers. But that was to be expected. Bridgette preferred to view this as an opportunity, anyways. She was a glass-half-full kind of girl. The opportunity here was for her to overcome her shyness. To break that shell that encased her from people and the world in general. Shyness was a quality to be admired in certain situations. For instance, it was pretty hot when a guy was shy. But when shyness hindered your ability to make friends, it wasn't as nice. To her, that is, and her shyness got in the way of many things for her. Others things did as well, but she wanted to focus on her shyness. Bridgette wanted to prove to show people how outgoing and wonderful she really was. A classic wish. The ball was in her court, so to speak, to make the first move, though. She could feel the sensation of a break through begin to sprout in her heart. It itched, but she didn't dare scratch it for fear of what might come oozing out. It just might shake her resolve.

She began to undress, relaxation taking over with each article of clothing being removed. She opened up one box situated beside her bed labeled "clothes" and removed clothes in haste until she found some that could pass for lounge wear. Once clothed more comfortably, she flopped down onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Her thoughts began to numb her mind, and soon it went blank. She savored it, however. It was one of the few times she didn't have racing thoughts. At times she had too many to keep track of and too many to complete. Eventually, a thought came to her mind. And it was a factual thought – she was hungry.

Groaning she rolled off of her bed, and looked around for her purse and jacket. She spotted a gas station around the corner on her way home from school, and Lord knows she needs some munchies ASAP. Bridgette grabbed her keys on the way out of her family's apartment, and she made her way into uncharted-charted territory. If that made any sense at all.


	3. Fail Like It's Your Motherfucking Job

Dave sat back on his couch, and made no attempt to be patient for John and Rose to show up at his place. He was already playing a random new video game that he – and by "he" he meant John – bought at the local gaming store. So far it was something to be expected, but at least the graphics were great. Soon, the familiar sound of the front door opening and the voices of his friends reached his ears, but he didn't bother to greet them. John was babbling on to Rose about some girl named Bridgette, who Dave guessed was that new girl John was so infatuated with.

"Did you talk to her yet?" Dave questioned passively, not even trying to mask his disinterest.

John threw his bag onto the floor and flopped down next to Dave. He heaved a sigh. "No because-"

"Because you're too much of a pussy, that's why," Dave finished for him. He let out a growl as a creature came out of nowhere on the TV screen and attacked his character.

"Stop it," Rose Lalonde scolded with a disapproving look. She sat in a reclining chair to the left of the boys. "You have to do a combo attack to defeat him."

"I know what I'm doing," Dave grumbled.

Rose mumbled an 'obviously' under breath and turned her attention to John. "Why don't you just sit next to her tomorrow, so that way you can talk to her more easily?"

John nodded, his mind not totally processing what she had said. His attention was more on the game Dave was playing. "Give me a controller."

Rose sighed in defeat, and pulled out a book from her bag. "I'm telling you, John, don't be so intimidated by her."

"You didn't see the hard on he had earlier," Dave said. "What the fuck are you doing, Egbert?"

John flushed a deep red, but refused to comment on Dave's first statement. Instead, he focused on the game. "I'm sprinting. What does it look like?"

Dave rolled his eyes. "It looks like you are going the wrong way."

"You guys are ridiculous," Rose said, not even looking up from her book.

"What's ridiculous is Egbert's fear of vagina. Dude, come on. Focus."

"I am," John said with annoyance laced in his voice. "And I don't have a fear of it."

Dave nodded slowly. "Right, right. 'Cause you want that chick's vag all over your-"

Rose curled her lip in disgust, this time looking up from her book. "You're nasty, Dave."

"Bridgette," John interjected as he pressed hard on the button that shot his weapon of choice to a diseased looking creature twice his size. "Her name is Bridgette."

Dave leaned back in success as his character reached the designated destination before John's character. "That's how it's done."

John's brow formed an uncharacteristic frown as he attempted to pick up his pace and drown out Dave's constant demeaning comments. Some days it really got to him. But images of Bridgette kept popping up in his mind, ruining his focus in the most pleasant of ways. Before he knew it, his character was bombarded with blasts of opposing non-playable characters, thus ending his character's life. John groaned in defeat, and slumped back against the couch.

"You fail like it's your motherfucking job," Dave said and took a gulp of his soda. "In more ways than one, too."

"Oh, fuck you," John mumbled. Rose raised her brow at John's uncharacteristic swearing, but shrugged it off. At least he was biting back a little bit.

Dave drank the last of his soda, and gave it a shake as he swallowed. He looked towards the side of the couch, checking the now empty soda box. "Fuck. No more." He stood up, and headed towards the door. "Going to get more shit. And Egbert – " he paused and looked over his shades and pointed a finger. "Don't fuck anything up."

John rolled his eyes. He watched as Dave left the apartment, and once he shut the door, he let out a groan.

"I hear you," Rose said knowingly. "He bothers me, too."

John smiled a little bit and ran his fingers through his hair. "I think I will try and talk to Bridgette tomorrow."

Rose smiled and peered over her book. "Good. I'm glad." She thought for a moment, and added softly, "And you don't 'fail' like it's your 'job.' Don't listen to him."

John smiled a little bit wider and began to plan out how he was going to strike up conversation with that striking new girl.


	4. Call him Or don't I don't care

Bridgette stared at the fatty, high calorie snacks in front of her. She subconsciously poked at her belly, pouting her lower lip. It wasn't like she needed any more of this kind of food, but the growling of her stomach demanded sustenance.

"Are you going to choose anything anytime soon? You're in the way," A voice laced with annoyance and passive aggression said.

She looked over her shoulder, instantly moving aside. "Sorry, I didn't see you," she said politely. She looked back over at the snacks, but discreetly tried taking in the features of the young man now beside her. Blonde hair, lean body…She wished she could sneak a peek behind his dark shades, but his annoyed demeanor pushed that aside as soon as it popped into her head.

Unbeknownst to Bridgette, the young man was checking her out as well. Up close, he could see why his friend was getting so hot and bothered. She wasn't half bad. Now a plan was beginning to formulate in his head. If his bucktooth friend wanted her so bad, he would play a part in it. After all, it would be fun to watch what would happen.

"You're that new girl," he said passively. "I saw you around at school today."

Bridgette looked at him. "Oh, yeah. That's me," she said a little nervously. This was completely new territory for her. Talking to a stranger that is. Well, it wasn't "new," but talking to good looking strangers of the opposite sex was.

"Bridgette, right?" The young man questioned, picking out a couple bags of snacks.

"Yeah." She didn't really want to know how he knew that, as this was the first time she had seen him. But she didn't want to over think that.

The young man turned to her and leaned casually against the shelves. Part of him hoped they were sturdy enough to hold his weight, because knocking it over would ruin his plan, and would really not be cool. "I'm Dave."

Bridgette smiled a little bit, some unknown confidence beginning to rise in her being. "Nice to meet you Dave."

He adjusted his shades. "So a friend of mine saw you around, too. He kind of has a thing for you."

She smiled a bit wider, and nodded her head. "Is that so?" She didn't want to make her interest in the matter be entirely obvious, although she was extremely happy at the idea of someone being interested in her.

"Yeah. But he's too much of a pussy to talk to you. So," he paused and reached into his pocket and took out a pen. "I'm going to give you his number."

She raised a brow as he took her hand. She tried to play off her nervousness at his touch by saying, "He won't mind?"

Dave looked at her over his shades. Bridgette had never seen such gorgeous eyes. Heat began to rise to her cheeks, and she quickly turned her attention to the numbers he was scribbling down on the back of her hand.

"If he does mind, then he is a lost cause," Dave said. "Call him. Or don't. I don't care."

She wanted to comment on his "not caring" attitude, because it seemed to her that he did care. If only she knew of his plan. But she thanked him as he turned to leave, and she gathered her own snacks. As she paid at the register, she felt her heart rate increase in anticipation. Never had this happened to her, but she wasn't complaining by any means.

There was a bounce in her step as she made her way home. Bridgette was never one to believe in luck, but she sure as hell felt pretty damn lucky tonight.


	5. Don't Be Such A Priss

What happened? Not even an hour ago was Bridgette giddy with anticipation, and now she was staring at her cell phone, feeling no such thing. Should she really make any move to contact Dave's friend? She didn't know the guy, and he claimed to have a friend who had a thing for her. It was sketchy at best. Still, this was like an answer to her desire for an opportunity. She did want to meet new people, and show those new people just who she really was. So, maybe this wasn't a bad idea as she was thinking it to be.

Biting her lower lip, she grabbed her phone and opened her messages. She entered Dave's friend phone number into the "to" bar. Then she paused. What should she say? Maybe 'hey' would suffice. No, no. That wouldn't be enough. Maybe she should identify herself as well. Either way, she was going to do this. So with a numb mind, she quickly entered her message. She squealed as she hit send and quickly threw her phone on her bed, and hugged her pillow to her chest. Now the only thing to do was wait for a reply.

In another section of town, John felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He whipped it out, and that it was a text. It was rather rare that he got these, especially from unknown numbers. But something was nagging at him to open the message instead of just ignoring it. So, he opened it, and his heart stopped for a moment.

"Rose!" he cried out.

"Hmm?" Rose mused, not looking up from her book.

"It's Bridgette!" John said with disbelief. The text was simple, stating a simple hello and who it was. But this text was enough to shake his world. He had to reread it several times because he was sure that this was a trick. His knees were weak, and the excitement pumping through his veins made his mind whirl.

"John."

Surely this was a trick. There was no way that she could get a hold of him, as they never exchanged numbers, much less said a word to each other. This just didn't make sense! But with that aside, he wasn't complaining at all. Now the only question was what to say.

"John."

Should he just say 'hey?' Or maybe he should play it cool and ask who Bridgette was. That way she wouldn't know how excited he was to hear from her. Then again, could one really tell how excited someone was for a text? Of course one could! That was a ridiculous thought. But really, what should he say?

"John!"

He looked up quickly. "What?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "How did she get your number?"

John shrugged. He wanted to know that, too, but thinking too much on it would ruin the moment. "I don't know. What should I say?"

"'Hey?'" Rose said sarcastically. "That's what people usually say, silly."

"Yeah but-" John stopped once he heard Dave's apartment door open. "Dave!"

Dave came waltzing into living room, bags of snacks in his hands. "Yeah?"

"Bridgette just texted me!" John said with excitement. "Can you believe it?"

"Yep," Dave said while cracking open a soda. "I gave her your number at the gas station."

John's world crumbled slightly. This completely shocked him. Part of him wished that Dave didn't tell him that, as he was riding on the hope that Bridgette was just interested in talking to him, not because someone told her to. He could feel disappointment and something resembling anger begin to bubble in his blood. "You saw her? You told her to contact me?"

Dave shrugged as he picked up one of the game consoles. "I didn't demand that she get a hold of you. I just suggested it. Be thankful."

Thankful? Really? John frowned. Why should he be thankful? He had a plan in place to start talking to her. This seemed unnatural at best. He wanted to be the first one to make the move, not Dave.

Rose could feel the tension in the room begin to rise. She bit her lip, unsure of what to say or do. She was indifferent to the whole situation, but she didn't want them to fight. Because even though they would never admit it, they were best friends. She hated seeing them argue, but she did think that Dave overstepped a boundary. This was John's playing field, and he had a game plan. Dave should have let him do it his way.

"Don't be a priss. Would you have really talked to her at some point? Or would you have just given your wrist some exercise over her before you go to bed at night?" Dave said haughtily.

That was the end of John's rope. "You don't know that," was all he said before he gathered his things and headed out of the apartment.

Dave scoffed. "I'm sure." Once the front door closed, he looked at Rose. "He should be thankful."

Rose closed her book and gave him a dirty look.

"What?" Dave snapped. "He needed my help. We know how pathetic he is when it comes to girls. Don't look at me like that."

"It isn't your place to decide that," was all she said as she, too, gathered her things and left the apartment.

"Whatever."


End file.
